


Delicate

by daydreamstew



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, OOC Rio probs, POV Beth Boland, POV Rio (Good Girls), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Soft Rio (Good Girls), Vaginal Sex, brief mention of death, brief mention of drug misuse, brief mentions of dean - Freeform, i kinda shade catholicism a little bit but its fine cause i was raised catholic and it deserves it, lol this got sad, mentions of depression, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-27 17:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamstew/pseuds/daydreamstew
Summary: In the early morning light, they’re still sleepy and it’s cozy and soft and slow. Haze-inducing affection dripping off of every languid movement and touch. If he’s being real honest, he’s not sure he’d call what they’re doing right now “fucking.”Or, Rio and Beth have morning sex and Rio gets emo.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 68
Kudos: 258





	1. Next Level

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a canon divergent future at some point in season 2 if they kept sleeping together and started a tentative relationship thing. 
> 
> *DISCLAIMER* I have never done any creative writing outside of a class, so please be nice! There is questionable sentence structure and punctuation! And I don’t really know how tagging or AO3 works so let me know if I messed it up.
> 
> I got inspired by all the wonderful writing in this fandom to give it a shot. And I was trying to write something else with actual plot and then I was like I kinda wanna try to write smut? And from Rio's POV because apparently I don't know how to pace myself in terms of difficulty. This was supposed to be me just trying out writing very basic and fluffy smut but then it got kinda sad? But it’s also super cheesy fluffy too. Idk! I hope you like it!

He used to roll his eyes when his mother would tell him to wait to do it with someone special. Never fully got the idea of sex being taken to some sacred, higher level when it’s with the “right person.” 

And it’s not like he hasn’t had great sex. Lots of it. He’s never particularly struggled to get laid. And he obviously knows that sex is better with some people than others. He’s had enough just fine sex on lonely nights with strangers from bars to understand that. 

Still, he thought the idea of this next level where every feeling was heightened and everything else faded away to create this intense intimacy was some cheesy shit from the romance novels his abuela used to read. A habit she’d passed onto his mother. 

He also thought his mom was just spewing that crap at him because of the Catholic guilt she felt once she realized abstinence until marriage probably wasn’t in her son’s future. Catholic guilt that didn’t seem to stop her from reading those smutty-ass books. 

So, yeah. He never really got the whole next level thing. 

But, right now, with Elizabeth underneath him moaning and writhing, him trying and failing to choke back his own moans, her hand laced with his against the dusty blue sheets, this whole thing just feels inevitable. The slide of her body against his own moving perfectly in sync. And he ain’t some sentimental fool believing in fate and shit, but, _fuck_ , if this moment right here doesn’t feel _right_. Feels like that next level. 

They’ve been fucking regularly for months now, but neither of them dared to truly label anything past exclusivity, despite the fact that Elizabeth had kicked Car Man out a long while ago and that they’d been spending more and more of their time together doing things other than working or fucking. Talking about their days, cooking each other dinner, curling up together on the couch watching whatever movies and TV shows she tells him he _has_ to see in order to be a “functioning member of society.”

The squawk of outrage she’d released when he’d casually mentioned he hadn’t seen _Forrest Gump_ still makes him chuckle thinking about it. 

But even that exclusivity conversation had been stilted and bare-bones. After tip-toeing around it for weeks, Rio had been the one to bring it up in the post-sex afterglow when suddenly the idea of her having this with someone else became unbearable. He couldn’t stomach the idea that she might think he had this with anyone other than her. He wasn’t trying to scare her off by moving too quickly right as she was getting out of a long marriage so he just left it at that. 

Her divorce had just gone through a little over a week ago while Rio had been away for meetings in Canada for a new business opportunity and he hadn’t been able to help her celebrate properly. With Rio having Marcus before the trip, he hadn’t seen her for a couple weeks. 

And he’d missed her. A lot. His mind kept drifting to her. He hadn't realized just how much of his limited free time he was spending with her. Hadn’t realized how used to that he’d gotten and how much she lifted his mood in a way only spending time with his son normally did. 

And that realization was a little unsettling for him because he ain’t one to have people that he misses like that. His work doesn’t really allow for it. Doesn’t really allow for letting people in so that he’s able to miss them either. That’s the excuse he gives himself for why his flings never get past surface level and why him and Rhea didn’t give it a real go and why Marcus only could have been a surprise. 

But his solitude isn’t all because of work. Part of it is that he doesn’t _want_ to have more people to miss. People to _lose_. Because missing them reminds him of the people he misses that won't come back. Reminds him of all the people he grew up with that he’s outlived. Reminds him of the fact that his mother is never gonna meet his son. That Marcus is never gonna get a chance to miss her because he’ll never know her. 

But he didn’t know how to address all of _that_. All of the grief and loss and loneliness of the life he leads. How all of it impedes every relationship he has or could ever possibly have. Doesn’t know how to address the fear he feels at the idea of finally letting someone in and losing them. 

So, he focused on something he knew how to solve, which was that he hadn’t been inside Elizabeth in two weeks and he wasn’t sure he could take much longer. 

So as soon as he’d gotten home, he’d driven right to Elizabeth’s, ignoring the speed limit and the late-night hour, and climbed into her bed for a celebratory/welcome back fuck. It was one of those long drawn-out fucks that Rio likes when they have the time. Every time he’d been about to come, he’d pulled out and changed positions. Rio likes to think he’s got pretty good stamina, but even he was worn out after the night before. 

He had woken up half hard against Elizabeth’s ass and kissed up her neck while pushing up his t-shirt she was wearing, still not satiated. Never seems to be with her.

In the early morning light, they’re still sleepy and it’s cozy and soft and slow. Haze-inducing affection dripping off of every languid movement and touch. If he’s being real honest, he’s not sure he’d call what they’re doing right now “fucking.”

And, yeah, this whole thing may have started with a quick fuck, but it’s evolved and gotten better. _So_ much better as they’ve gotten to know each other’s bodies. Don’t get him wrong. Fucking Elizabeth in that bar bathroom had been the hottest experience he’d had in a long damn time, but it was just lust really. The culmination of months of attraction. But _this_. This isn’t that. At least not entirely. 

This is—this is emotional. This is vulnerable. This is him telling her that he missed her, letting his actions speak the words he's unable to voice. This is everything he normally avoids. This is— _fuck_. This is _feelings_. This is— _god she feels so good wrapped around him._ Hot and tight and _his._

He feels every flutter of her cunt right down his spine. Hears the reverberations of the headboard gently rocking into the wall. Smells the intoxicating scent of her that lingers on his pillows and sheets when he gets to have her in his bed. Feels her silky, smooth skin underneath his calloused fingers. Feels her nails gently scratching his shaved head. Feels her gushing around him every time his hips meet hers.

“Oh my god...so fucking wet,” slips out of his mouth in a breathy voice he barely recognizes as his eyelids go heavy, his mouth open and panting into her neck. 

He’s _wrecked._

“Mmmm uh—I’m close...don’t stop,” Elizabeth moans out shakily. 

Slipping his hand from hers and down between their bodies, he runs slow circles around her clit as he continues thrusting his cock deep inside of her. He lifts his head from her neck and they lock eyes. The emotions in her eyes are overwhelming and he knows his match hers. 

This feels big. Feels like the consummation of something, which he knows sounds ridiculous. It’s not like they’re man and wife or whatever outdated Catholic phrasing he’d heard in homilies at mass growing up. He’d been fucking her while she was still married to someone else until last week. 

But maybe that’s part of it. Part of what’s making this feel different. She’s officially, legally not tied to Deansie anymore. This can’t be belittled as some sordid affair. There’s no one else lurking in this bed with them. The strings attached are only between the two of them. No one else. Just _them._

And he knows that he’s getting ahead of himself and this thing between them is still so delicate. It’s just— _God,_ it just—she just feels _perfect._

 _Jesus._ Is he fuckin’ falling in love with her? 

Lowering his head so their lips touch, they steal a few kisses, but mostly just pant and moan into each other’s mouths as they get lost in this ecstasy. 

“Oh god...uuh—fuuuck,” she whimpers. 

“Fuck you feel so good, baby,” Rio stutters into her mouth in response. 

A few more flicks of her clit and her whimpers turn into a shuddering moan as she’s pushed over the edge, her shaking thighs locking around his hips as she throws her head back in a silent scream and bows her back. He thinks he hears his name slipped in amongst her babbling as she comes, contracting around him in a way that makes him curse. 

He thrusts once then twice more and he’s right there with her. Pushing his hips against hers, he goes as deep as he can one last time as he starts to come inside of her. He makes a strained sound almost like he’s in pain before letting out a choked off “ _‘Lizabeth_ ” and openly moaning into her neck, his body trembling as he collapses on top of hers, his arms and legs going numb as a tingling sensation spreads up his spine. 

Normally, he’d be embarrassed by the sounds leaving him, but right now he’s so far gone he doesn’t care. 

Her quiet mewling and whimpering are tapering off as reality comes back to him. He lays there with his full weight on top of her as their panting breaths slowly return to normal. 

“Fuck,” Rio breathes out as a long drawn-out syllable into her neck before chuckling a little bit. 

What the fuck is going on? He’s _giddy_. 

“Hmm,” Beth hums out in agreement before giggling a little too. 

Running his nose and lips along her neck, he sighs out a contented noise as she runs her fingers up and down his back. _God_ he just wants to stay here. In this room with her. In this bubble of just them where nothing else matters. In this moment where everything that sometimes seems so complicated becomes so simple. Any obstacles seem so stupid when _this_ is between them. 

He lifts up onto his forearms and looks into her eyes and sees something almost like awe. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss onto her nose as her eyes flutter shut. Presses a soft kiss to each eyelid as she starts to giggle underneath him. Smiling into it, he continues on and kisses her forehead, and each cheek before finally returning to her mouth. Softly kissing her and suckling on her bottom lip with a moan. He pecks her once more before slipping out of her with a grunt and laying down next to her. 

Already missing her warmth, he moves their bodies so he’s spooning her and readjusts the covers over them. Slotting himself into her curves like a puzzle piece, he pulls her body flush against his. 

Suddenly, he feels a strong sense of possession as he thinks of his cum slipping out of her cunt. Wants to lift up the covers and spread her legs to take a peek, but he’s too cozy to move right now. 

He buries his nose into her neck and breathes in the scent of her as the significance of what that felt like settles over them. 

“You smell good,” he purrs instead of confessing something else like that he’d missed her so much it scared him or that he's terrified of losing this. 

Losing _her_. 

“Thank you,” she whispers back as she laces her fingers with his hand that’s spread across her bare stomach. 

And he knows they’ll have to get up and clean up in a moment. And that sometime soon they’ll have to address all the feelings that were just screaming and jumping out of their actions like a flashing speed limit sign telling them that they may be out of their depth here. All the conversations they’ve had with their bodies that they haven’t been able to speak out loud are gonna catch up to them no matter how fast they speed by them. 

But for now, he wants to enjoy this bliss where he doesn’t have to miss her because she’s _right here_. So he burrows in closer to her, tightens his arm around her, places a kiss to her shoulder, and savors this moment with her. With this right person in the aftermath of this next level. 


	2. Unruly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, when Rio wakes her up the morning after a night of making her lose control with lazy kisses on her neck and he starts to push up her shirt—well, his shirt—her mind is occupied with how relieved she is that he’s here. She doesn’t need to worry about him because she can feel him wrapping himself around her like the ivy on her childhood home. 
> 
> And she can feel it. That he’d been thinking about her too. 
> 
> Or, Beth and Rio have morning sex and Beth gets emo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 2! It's the same events as chapter 1 but from Beth's POV.
> 
> Set in a canon-divergent future at some point in season 2 if they kept sleeping together and started a tentative relationship thing.
> 
> It somehow got more sad but also more fluffy??
> 
> Thank you for all the support on the first chapter! And to everyone who commented wanting more, but especially to gangfriend who inspired me to write the same thing from Beth's POV. 
> 
> WARNING: There are mentions of depression and drug misuse when Beth starts talking about her childhood.

Sex is fun. She hadn’t realized how fun it could be. 

That’s all Beth could think the night before as Rio railed into her from behind in her bedroom, one hand wrapped in her hair and the other clasped around her hip hard enough to leave a bruise. 

That wasn’t the first position of the night and it wasn’t the last. He didn’t stop until she was curled up into a ball on her bed, a shivering, shaking, overstimulated mess. 

She loves those nights where they take their time and he draws it out and she loses count of how many times she’s come. She loves discovering new things she’s into—like how vocal he is, uttering the filthiest things to her. She loves the giddiness on his face when she talks back and the way he looks when he’s all sweaty and fucked out, full lower lip hanging as he pants. 

The sex is good. Like _good._ Great. Mind-blowing. All the adjectives. It was never like this before—with Dean. Her body lights up every time Rio touches her. Every time she touches him. It’s overwhelming—her desire for him. Seemingly limitless. 

She hadn’t seen him in awhile. Fifteen days to be exact. And it wasn’t like she was counting, per say, but, _okay_ , maybe she was a little.

Maybe she missed him. And not just the sex. 

They were falling behind on their movie nights! He still hasn’t seen _Forrest Gump_ or _Rocky_ or _Training Day_! He’s not even sure he’s ever seen Denzel Washington in a movie! How is that even possible?

He’d been out of town for the last eight days. “A new business opportunity” was the reason he’d given her for his trip to Canada. Whatever that even means. He’d been vague as always. 

And, sure, they’re partners in business at the dealership and they’re _something_ in their kinda-maybe-relationship thing, but she isn’t privy to every detail of his business dealings. She’s honestly pretty sure she doesn’t want to be. 

And it’s not like she didn’t have anything else going on while he was away. She had her kids, and a business to run, and— _right_ , she’d also gotten officially divorced like a week ago. 

All Beth should have felt was immense relief and joy to have _finally_ fully rooted herself out of a marriage that no longer served her to a man who never really knew her, but she was on edge all week. 

Rio had texted periodically and she knew it was his way of letting her know he was okay, like he could read her mind across international borders somehow. Every text a band-aid on the festering wound of her anxiety. 

But her mind would inevitably wander. What if he wasn’t okay? What if something went wrong? What if— _god, why was she always so worried about him now?_

Beth wasn’t sure when she stopped being terrified of what he might do and when her stomach started being in knots at even the thought of him being hurt. Or _worse_ than hurt. 

But she couldn’t think about that. 

She couldn’t think about Rio never getting to see Denzel Washington act or not getting to see Marcus grow up. She definitely couldn’t think about what it means that she’s not sure she could recover from it. 

And, yes, she’s strong and a “boss bitch” and she can take a lot— _has_ taken a lot. She’s not delicate. 

But _that—_ if he—she couldn’t think about that. 

As much as she knows he thinks he’s doing it to protect them both, his vagueness generates a gnawing feeling of dread in her gut. 

Beth has always been one to want everything in its place. She has a bit of a thing with control. Annie would call it being a “control freak with a stick up her ass made of obsidian,” but Beth thinks that’s an exaggeration. Besides, obsidian isn’t even that hard of a rock. 

She just likes to know what’s going on and to be in control of every situation she finds herself in. 

Maybe part of it’s because Beth spent so much of her childhood with a mother who seemed like a shell of a person. She was there, but her spirit wasn’t. 

And current Beth knows why. She knows that her mother had long periods of deep depression and that it wasn’t her fault that she wasn’t present. 

But the Beth _then_ didn’t know why. All she knew was that her mother stopped going to work and spent more days in bed than not. All she knew was that her mother wouldn’t get up to go to the family Christmas party, despite Annie wailing and begging and banging on their mother’s bedroom door before collapsing in a heap of tears, leaving Beth to comfort her.

All she knew was that her father started snapping more at Annie over every little mistake and they started cutting more coupons and eating more boxed mac and cheese for dinner. All she knew was the terror she felt when she heard the sirens of the ambulance that rushed her mother to the hospital after she took too many of what her father called her “happy pills.” 

All she knew was that by the time things were a little bit better, her dad had cut and run and Annie was her’s. 

Her childhood was like being in a constant thunderstorm without knowing what was causing the loud sounds and bright flashes. She knew something was wrong, but she didn’t know exactly what it was or why it was happening. Her mother wasn’t okay and Beth couldn’t do anything to fix it. 

So, yeah. Beth likes control and wants to know what’s going on. 

But _Rio_ —Rio makes her feel out of control. And sometimes it’s in the worst way like he’s jumped into the pile of just-raked leaves that is her life, leaving her scrambling around trying to pick up the mess. 

But sometimes, or really a lot of the time now, he makes her feel out of control in a good way. The _best_ way. 

He brings out this gloriously, deliriously euphoric feeling of _letting go_ —of letting someone unravel you, take a look, and _want_ you.

After a lifetime balancing act of maintaining everyone’s needs and expectations like the halftime show performer balancing plates on her head while riding a unicycle, it’s like Rio bumped into her and some of the plates fell and broke. 

Her pristine PTA image. 

Her decaying marriage. 

But then, in the wreckage, she realized that maybe that’s okay. Maybe she doesn’t need to balance them all at once. 

Maybe she never liked some of the plates. 

And so, when Rio wakes her up the morning after a night of making her lose control with lazy kisses on her neck and he starts to push up her shirt—well, _his_ shirt—her mind is occupied with how relieved she is that he’s here. She doesn’t need to worry about him because she can feel him wrapping himself around her like the ivy on her childhood home. 

And she can feel it. That he’d been thinking about her too. 

He wanted to see her as soon as he got back even though it was late and she wasn’t expecting him until the next day. 

She can feel that he’s as desperate for her as she is for him in every touch. Like he’s trying to tell her in the way he spreads his hand over her thigh, grasping as much of her skin as he can. 

She can feel it when he kisses over the marks he left on her breasts the night before, the scratch of his stubble further reddening her chest. 

She can hear it in the way he lets out a guttural moan when he lowers himself on top of her and slips inside her cunt. 

She can see it in his half-lidded eyes when he pauses, letting her adjust and allowing them a moment to luxuriate in the feeling of their bodies being intertwined again. 

She’s already shaking and breathless and he hasn’t even moved yet. 

“ _Shit, Elizabeth_ ,” he grunts when she clenches around him, his eyebrows pinching together as his head falls into the crook of her neck. 

“Hmm—I love the way you fill me up,” she whines, drawing a groan out of him .

When he still hasn’t moved after a moment, she gets desperate. 

“Please,” she breathes out, needing him to move, needing _all of him._

And when he kisses her as he starts to slowly move inside of her, she clutches onto his shoulders and whimpers into his mouth, needing him as close as possible. 

And he’s clinging onto her lips and her body like the cover of a book. Like he’d spent two weeks missing this. 

Missing _her_. 

It’s different than the night before, but just as urgent. Dirty talk swapped out for choked-off moans. Every movement is deliberate and tender and so affectionate it’s almost—it’s almost _romantic_. 

He’s fucking into her slow and deep and it feels _so good_ she could die. 

And she’s so sore from the night before. Every muscle aches. But she doesn’t care. She wants _more_. So she lifts her aching hips in rhythm with his as he pants into her neck. Whimpering every time his cock hits that spot deep inside her, she feels the tension building and building in her lower belly. 

Lifting one of his hands up, he takes hers, and laces their fingers together. They fit perfectly.

Everything feels perfect. The slide of his cock, how it stretches her. The feel of his prickly hair underneath her fingertips. The circle of his fingers around her clit. The way he knows just how to touch her to make her toes curl into the sheets.

“Oh my god...so fucking wet,” Rio breathes out in a voice she’s never heard from him. 

“Mmmm uh—I’m close...don’t stop,” she barely manages to sob out as the nail of his thumb scrapes over her clit, causing her eyes to roll back. 

When he lifts his head out of her neck and looks into her eyes, he looks so _wrecked_ and the thought of her doing that to him—of her unraveling him the way he unravels her, of her bringing him that same euphoric feeling of letting go—she almost comes right then. 

He’s looking at her with such reverence that this feels like some sort of worship. This feels like something more than fucking. Like something has shifted. And maybe something has. 

Beth knows that despite her own flippancy towards her divorce, it bothered Rio that to the people outside this bed, she was attached to someone else. He’d always hated Dean—even before this thing between them. And Rio has a possessive streak no matter how much he denies it. 

So maybe that’s it. Maybe he’s looking at her differently because for the first time, it feels like she’s fully his. 

And— _god, he’s so beautiful_. He always is. But especially now bathed in the golden glow of the morning light—in the quiet peacefulness where nothing else can distract her from his perfect cheekbones and his ears that stick out and his lust-clouded brown eyes and his wide-open and panting mouth and his lips. _God_ , his lips. 

He lowers them to hers as he continues fucking into her, moaning into each other’s mouths and consuming each other’s pleasure. 

“Oh god...uuh—fuuuck,” Beth whines out as feels herself approaching the edge, her whole body ablaze.

“ _Fuck,_ you feel so good, baby,” Rio chokes out as his hips stutter. 

It isn’t much longer, a few more flicks of her clit before all the tension that’s built up snaps and she comes _hard._

Wrapping her legs around his hips, she holds onto the back of his neck with one hand as the other grips into the sheets, her whole body shaking with the intensity. She throws her head back and her vision blacks out as she’s hit with wave after wave of pleasure. She has no control over what’s coming out of her mouth. 

She vaguely registers that he’s coming too when she feels him collapse on top of her and his cum spilling into her cunt. Thinks she hears him cry out her name into her ear, but she can’t distinguish between her moans and his. 

She’s never heard him this loud. 

As she touches back to earth and regains some semblance of control, she feels his chest heaving against hers as he pants into her neck. She’s not in any better shape—can feel the sweat on her forehead and the flush on her cheeks and neck and chest. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he breathes out before chuckling a little. 

“Hmm,” she agrees and giggles in return. 

Sex is _fun_. 

She kinda gets it now—why people lose their minds and ruin their lives over this. 

Reveling in the goosebumps that rise up at her touch, Beth runs her fingers up and down his back. Rio lifts his weight from her and slowly kisses all over her face, as he’s taken to doing recently. And she starts to giggle again because, _god,_ he can be such a dork sometimes. 

The giggling abruptly stops when he sucks her lower lip into his mouth, moaning like her lips are his favorite taste. 

Rio slips out of her and immediately wraps his arms back around her, pulling her back to him like she’s his to keep. 

She feels him breathe in her scent before pausing like he’s holding back saying something. 

Seeming to settle on what to say, he purrs out, “You smell good.”

“Thank you,” she responds quietly, grabbing hold of his hand like it might hold the secrets to the words he’s not saying. 

After staying in bed a little while longer, they get up to clean up and start their days. Beth is in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to finish brewing when she feels two arms wrap around her from behind as she looks out the window into her backyard. 

Stroking her fingers on his forearms, she leans back into Rio’s chest as he places a kiss on her shoulder before pressing his face into her bare neck exposed by the messy bun she’s pulled her hair into. Reaching back one hand, she starts to scratch her nails over his head and he purrs in response. 

She knows that their communication is an issue. A big one. And everything between them is still so tentative and unspoken and they’ll have to communicate all these feelings at some point if they ever want this _thing_ between them to solidify into something real. And she’s not sure what something real would even look like with them. Maybe she’s kidding herself to think that this could ever actually work. 

But then—their communication _has_ gotten better over time as they’ve built a modicum of trust. _God,_ Rio had been the one to take the first step and say he wanted to be exclusive. 

But she also knows that this chronic dread isn’t going to go away. It’ll probably only get worse. And she’s not sure she’s ready to add that plate of constant worry to her balancing act. 

She knows that the danger Rio puts himself in could catch up to him. And she’s known it since she was a kid with her mom that she doesn’t like when she can’t do anything when something is wrong with someone she lov—oh. 

_Oh_. 

Part of her thinks it's ridiculous and she’s reading too much into all of this—what just happened in her bedroom. He was just horny after not fucking her for two weeks. They both were. 

And maybe you could use that to explain away why he came right over when he got back the night before. But he’d stayed afterward. She wanted him here. And, _god,_ when had it become a given that Rio would sleep over?

There wasn’t even a question the night before. He was staying.

She sleeps better when he’s here. 

Beth turns her head slightly toward him. Maybe it’s the early morning bubble they’re still in when the day doesn’t feel quite real yet and they could just be any two normal people beginning their days together that gets her to ask him, “How’d you sleep?” 

“Mmm, real good, baby. The _best_ ,” he hums out with an emphasis on _best_ as he tightens his arms around her waist—like maybe he’s not just talking about the sleep—and places a couple gentle kisses to her neck. 

“The best?” she asks as she feels a smile creeping on her face. 

“Always sleep better with you,” he responds so casually like that wasn’t _everything_. 

Her breath catches as she looks at him. 

And she knows now. She knows why she was so worried about him. She knows why he came over last night. She knows why he was looking at her like that. 

She knows that she’s his person to come home to. 

That’s she’s his person. 

And he’s hers. 

**Author's Note:**

> That's it! 
> 
> Let me know if there's anything I should warn for!
> 
> Also I have the same username over on tumblr @daydreamstew but I don’t really post there except to reblog other people’s stuff.


End file.
